


Untitled Shrinky Prompts

by Shrinkynatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aware, M/M, Masturbation, Shrinking, Unaware, insertion, tiny!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shrinkynatural/pseuds/Shrinkynatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompts that don't really go anywhere else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tiny!Cas, M, Dean/Cas

**Prompt fic: cas stuck in deans underwear unnoticed?**

The bathroom door opened and Dean stepped out, towel around his waist and still a bit wet. He eyed the toppled mess of his clothes on his bed and turned to the closed bedroom door. "Oh sure, just drop _my_ clothes everywhere!" 

He walked over and started to sort the mess. Most of the clothes had stayed folded, thankfully. A few things had fallen open, but Dean needed to get dressed anyway and he wasn't going to make himself fold more than he had to. 

Dropping the towel, he snatched up the closest pair of underwear, not noticing the tiny tan spot inside them. Castiel shouted Dean's name as one leg and then the other slid through the holes on either side of him. He was too small to be noticed as the underwear were quickly pulled up and the waistband snapped into place. 

"Ah, toasty." Dean grinned in approval, enjoying the warmth as he adjusted himself. He went to pull on an equally warm t-shirt and socks before going to pull his robe off its hook. Inside, Castiel was pinned between Dean's cock and the unyielding cotton. A little light managed to filter through the black material, but it was blocked out when Dean tied his robe shut. He couldn't have Sam whining about inappropriate living room dress code. It was _their_ bunker, damn it; he could dress however he wanted. 

Strolling out of his room, Dean wandered down the hallway and into the kitchen. With a pleasant familiarity he pulled out all the ingredients for a sandwich and set everything on the counter. Sam had put the small plates of the highest fucking shelf _again_ so he had to stretch, leaning against the counter's edge and squishing Castiel even more against him. He triumphantly snagged a plate and pushed himself back with his hips so he could set it down and begin to craft his perfect sandwich. 

The sandwich done and everything put away or in the sink, Dean headed for the area they'd set up as a TV room. It wasn't more than a couch, a TV, and a coffee table covered in impulse-bought DVDs, but it was _privacy_ and Dean loved it. He grabbed the remote and turned it to the channel the new Dr. Sexy episode would be starting on soon, then set his sandwich on the coffee table and flopped down onto the couch. 

The force of it made Castiel fall down behind his balls and end up almost tucked against his crack. It was difficult to get his feet under him; he fell down the few attempts he made and Dean's squirming wasn't helping any. Little did he know that _he_ was the cause of the squirming, a small irritant that was quickly trying on Dean's patience. Dean reached down between his legs and scratched at the spot through his underwear, wedging a startled Castiel right between his cheeks. Feeling better, he leaned forward to grab his sandwich and sat back again as the episode started. 

It took half the show for Castiel to free himself and Dean ruined it by sitting forward to put his empty plate on the coffee table and then bringing his legs up onto the couch so he could lie down. Castiel was squished and relieved and then falling back against Dean's ass in under three seconds, and it took another three for him to orient himself again. With Dean lying down the underwear felt more loose around him and Castiel took advantage, grabbing the material to drag himself out from under Dean's ass and balls. 

Dean's robe had fallen open when he laid down and Castiel watched as the waistband lifted up just enough for Dean's fingers to fit inside. They didn't do anything; they just sat there idly scratching the area where his pubic hair started. When they didn't retreat again Castiel knew this was his chance. He crawled up Dean's balls slowly, not wanting to trigger another itch. It was slow-going with how much Dean shifted, making Castiel stop and brace himself in case those fingers came down farther. Once Dean settled he started again. 

The episode ended and the channel started advertising for a show Dean _really_ didn't want to watch. With a grumble he pulled his hand out of his underwear and picked up the remote to flick idly through the channels. He didn't keep his porn in the TV room, not wanting to spur another talk with Sam about shared space and boundaries, but it was late enough that there had to be _something_ out there. 

He flipped through about a half dozen crime dramas and infomercials before finding a program that featured enough sexy women to keep himself occupied. He lowered the volume so he'd be able to hear anyone walking by and tucked his hand into his underwear again. His cock was definitely showing interest but he wanted to take it slow, just running his fingers up and down it. 

Castiel shouted when Dean's hand reappeared just as he was reaching the waistband. He was pushed backwards and trapped between Dean's palm and his cockhead as his fingers stroked along his dick. He managed to turn around and tried to find a space to crawl out but it was futile, any extra room he may have had disappearing as Dean got harder. He was trapped, bent over the head with the heel of Dean's hand pushing his hips up against it again and again. It was uncomfortable until it suddenly _wasn't_ and Castiel let out a startled moan. From the dampness spreading across his pants it was obvious Dean was enjoying it as well. 

Dean groaned and shifted so he could brace one foot on the floor and spread his legs wider. He wanted to take off his underwear and just go at it, but he'd hit an amazing sweet spot and he was afraid he'd lose it if he pulled away. And he did _not_ want to lose it. The only bad thing was that he couldn't pick up speed very well, so it was long and drawn out and he'd completely changed his mind about wanting to go slow. 

Dean curled up his fingers, pushed his palm against the head, and just _rubbed_ , shutting his eyes and letting out a relieved 'yesssss.' Castiel couldn't move at all outside the side-to-side grinding he was being subjected to and didn't think he'd be able to anyway. He was completely hard in his pants and a trembling mess as Dean unknowingly used him for his own pleasure. It didn't take long for him to reach his orgasm and he screamed as he came. It should've been over, but Dean wasn't done yet and Castiel just panted and tried to squirm away while his hips were forced to stay where they were. 

It was a tight fit, but Dean managed to slip his other hand into his underwear and stroked himself that way. The sweet spot was as sweet as ever and the added friction was adding to it perfectly. A few minutes later his back arched, his toes curled, and he just remembered to bite back the hoarse moan he wanted to let out as he spilled into his cupped palm. It left him exhausted and boneless and incredibly satisfied. 

He pulled his hands out, glancing at the come-covered one in vague disgust. Dean didn't see Castiel in the middle of it all and wiped his hand off on his shirt before closing his eyes and resting. Castiel was doing the same from his spot on a rapidly drying come stain. His coat and pants were sticking to Dean's t-shirt as well but he could only wait to regain the feeling in his legs so he could move. Dean, of course, recovered first. 

He stood and tied his robe shut, trapping Castiel in darkness again as he headed back to his room. No one met him on the way and he was grateful, just wanting to get back to his memory foam and pass out for the next few hours. Inside his room he carefully hung up his robe and took less care in taking off his underwear and t-shirt and tossing them at his hamper. Dean then fell onto his bed and drifted off to sleep quickly while Castiel slowly came back to himself, still stuck to a t-shirt on the floor in the middle of the room.


	2. Tiny!Cas, M, Dean/Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about some Dean driving with Cas shoved down his boxers?

"I'm _not_ going in your pocket again." 

Dean sighed and pulled his hand back. "Then you're riding with Sam in _his_ pocket." 

" _No_ , I'm not." Castiel glared up at him, but after being on the receiving end so often lately it just slid right off Dean. 

"Well you have to stay somewhere!" 

"I can sit on the seat with you and Sam." 

The thought was so ridiculous that Dean just laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, no. Way too dangerous, Cas." 

"How? I'd be in the car, nothing could harm me," Castiel pointed out. "The Impala is the safest place we have." 

"Yeah, unless one of us sits on you. _Again_. Or--" Dean held up a hand and pointed at him. "You could fall onto the floor and I could step on you!" 

Castiel just stared, unimpressed. "It wouldn't hurt." 

Dean gaped at him. "That's not--that's not the point! If you won't stay in my pocket, I'll put you in my duffel!" 

"No, you won't." He even had the nerve to _roll his eyes_ at Dean, and that was the final straw. 

" _Fine_." Dean dropped his hands to his jeans and popped the top button, drawing down the zipper and feeling a vicious glee when he finally had Castiel's full attention. 

"What are you doing? Sam's checking us out of the room, we don't have ti--" The rest was cut off with a yelp as Dean scooped him up and brought him to the open waistband. 

"If I put you in my pocket, you're just going to climb out," he growled. "So I need to keep you somewhere you can't get out of until I let you." 

Castiel's glare was positively murderous. "Dean Winchester, don't you dare." 

Dean pulled open his underwear with his free hand and gave Castiel a wink before shoving him down in. He wasn't gentle about it but he was careful--they had a long ride ahead of them and he didn't want Castiel to be bent awkwardly or for him to slip down too far. Dean was serious when he said he was worried about sitting on him. 

Once he felt Castiel was secure, he withdrew his hand and did up his jeans. The squirming started almost immediately and while he expected it, he still had to bite his lip and breathe out his nose to keep himself from enjoying it. A quick squeeze of his crotch stopped that before it could get out of hand and Dean gave a satisfied hum when Castiel cooperated and quit moving. 

He prided himself on his smart thinking and picked up his bag on his way out the door. Sam was just walking over from the front office and sped up once he saw Dean. 

"Finally got Cas to listen?" he asked with a grin as they got to the car. 

"Yep!" Dean threw his duffel in the back seat and smirked at Sam over the roof. "Took a bit, but he finally saw that I was right." There was a sharp pain as Castiel _yanked on his pubic hair_ , but he just grit his teeth and smacked his hips against the side of the car in retaliation. 

Sam chuckled, oblivious, and they both opened their doors and slid into their seats. Dean shifted a bit, his pants a tighter fit with the extra passenger, but it was bearable. Castiel stayed still and they were on the road toward their next hunt in record time. 

\-- 

Dean should've known that Castiel wouldn't give up that easily. It had been an hour of smooth driving when he felt movement in his jeans. It stopped right after it started so he paid it no mind, assuming Castiel was just shifting to get more comfortable. He couldn't blame him, it was a little crowded down there. The mental image made him smirk for a second before he sucked in a startled breath when Castiel moved again and was suddenly _on his cock_. 

Of course Sam heard it and glanced over. "You all right?" 

Dean nodded quickly. "Yeah, just-- _ah_ , just fine." He forced a smile at his brother's suspicious eyebrow raise and kept his eyes on the road until Sam muttered 'ookay' and went back to staring out the window. 

He bit the inside of his cheek when Castiel started squirming again. It wasn't a lot, just enough to keep his attention and to make every centimeter of his dick hypersensitive. He really wanted to admire Castiel's creativity with how he was managing in his limited space, but those thoughts let to his dick twitching in dangerous ways and that was the last thing he wanted. 

Still, he could just see it: Castiel straddling his dick, arms wrapped around it as he rubbed himself up and down it. It'd be harder once Dean got...harder. Heh. Less space, for one thing. His cock would be pushing Castiel back against the front of his underwear and his unyielding jeans would leave him with nowhere to go. He'd be pinned, and all his wriggling to get away would only make it worse for him... 

Oh _fuck_. 

Dean reached over and turned up the radio, ignoring the exasperated sigh Sam gave the action. He didn't care, he needed something to cover the little moan he just had to let out. He was stuck in a car with his brother and his three-inch tall, angel, sort-of boyfriend was giving him a...hand job (body job?) in his pants. And it was his own damn fault. 

A quick glance down confirmed that his erection was pretty damn obvious. He needed to find somewhere to pull over so he could get Castiel out of there ASAP. The next sign advertised a rest area, but not for another thirty miles. Clenching his jaw, he pushed a little harder on the gas and tried to ignore the toe-curling sensation of a scratchy trenchcoat sliding over his skin. 

"Geez, Dean, what's the rush?" Sam complained over the music. "We don't need to be there until morning; we've got all night." 

Dean shrugged, going for nonchalant. "Gotta pee. I forgot to go before we left." 

"Well don't get us pulled over on the way there." 

Dean bit back a retort and eased up on the gas--but just barely. He knew Castiel could hear them, the little bastard, because he'd upped his game. He'd moved up and now there were hands on his cockhead, squeezing it and _oh shit that was a tongue_. A tongue _on his slit_. Dean clenched his fingers around his steering wheel hard and concentrated on his breathing so he wouldn't start panting. His heart was pounding in his ears and he was glad for the dark of the car because he knew he was flushed. 

He watched the miles tick by too slowly, the signs announcing the rest stop in twenty miles, in ten. It was like a damn countdown and his body was reacting similarly, winding tighter and tighter the closer they got. Unsexy thoughts weren't working and neither was mentally stripping and putting back together every single gun he'd ever owned. 

Finally, the 'Next Exit' sign showed up and Dean nearly whimpered in relief. Castiel's angelic stamina was proving itself to be a curse because he hadn't let up at all and Dean was hanging by a thread. Hastily flicking on his turn signal, he pulled into the exit lane but did so too quickly. The Impala's right tires passed over the shoulder rumble strips and it was like someone had shoved a vibrator under his ass--that was the end of it. 

He came with a choked off moan, barely having the presence of mind to yank the car back into the lane. Sam was yelling at him and moving around and it was _really_ putting a damper on his afterglow, if you could call having to focus on slowing down and parking in an empty rest stop afterglow-friendly either. As soon as they were stopped, Dean shut off the car and dropped his head onto the steering wheel. 

"Dude, _please _tell me you didn't piss your pants," Sam pleaded, his voice loud in the sudden silence.__

Dean let out a breathy laugh. "No, I'm good. I'm gonna...I'm just gonna..." 

He heard the passenger door open and the seat creak as Sam got out. "Take your time, seriously. I'm just going to go for a walk and stretch my legs since we're here." 

Dean waited until the door closed and counted to ten before sitting up and taking a few deep breaths. When he was sure he _could_ stand, he opened his own door and hurried as fast as his wobbly legs could carry him to the restrooms. He checked to make sure he was truly alone before slipping into a stall and unzipping his pants. 

"You asshole," he growled pathetically, shoving the jeans down his hips and sticking his hand into the sticky mess of his underwear to pull out an equally sticky Castiel. "I'm going to kill you." 

It was difficult to tell, but Dean was sure that under his come Castiel was giving him a smug look. When he lifted his fingers and popped them into his mouth one by one Dean was sure. "You were right." 

Dean paused and brought Castiel a little closer. "What?" 

Castiel relaxed back against his curved fingers, resting his hands on his lap. "I couldn't get out until you let me." 

Dean's mouth fell open. "Why you little--" He hiked up his jeans with his free hand and burst out of the stall, stomping over to the sink and turning on the water. "Acting like you _won_." It took a moment for the water to go from freezing cold to reasonably warm and once it was decent he stuck Castiel under it. 

He scrubbed the come off of Castiel, glad it hadn't had the chance to dry but still cursing the whole while. He was almost done when Sam wandered in and froze, raising his eyebrows at the both of them. 

"Cas fell in the toilet," Dean blurted the first thing he could think of, causing Sam's eyes to go wide and Castiel to pinch his palm. Before Castiel could blow the whole thing, Dean shoved him sputtering under the water again. 

"You need to be more careful-- _both _of you," Sam stated. He took a step back and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I'm going to be in the car."__

Once he was gone Dean pulled Castiel back out again, ignoring the hitting and swearing--at least he assumed they were swears, he didn't recognize most of them. "Quit it, we need to get you dry. Here, you're going to love this." 

He took Castiel over to a hand dryer and smacked the button. The sudden burst of hot air had Castiel flailing, but soon he was standing on Dean's palm and moving around to make the most of it. It took a few more goes, but soon he was nodding and yelling over the noise for Dean to move them away. 

"You look like one of those cartoon cats after someone takes a hair dryer to them," he laughed, running a finger over the sticking-up fluff that was Castiel's hair. 

He was smacked away, but Castiel was smiling. "Sam is waiting for us." 

Dean sighed but nodded. "Yeah, yeah." He set Castiel on top of the hand dryer and redid his jeans. "No more Pants Express for you, I don't think I could take it." 

He picked up Castiel again and held him close to his chest as he strolled back to the Impala. Sam was leaning against it and looked up when they came out. "You need me to drive?" 

Dean shook his head. "Nope, we're good to go." 

Sam eyed him for a moment but nodded and got in on his side. Dean slid in behind the wheel and once he was comfortable lowered Castiel to the open spot between his legs. When he didn't leave his palm Dean explained. "Compromise, all right? But if I find you _anywhere_ but between my legs at any point on this drive, I am throwing you in the trunk." 

"Oh my _god_ , Dean!" Sam yelled. 

"You know what I mean!" he shot back, glancing over for just a moment to glare at his brother before looking back at Castiel. 

Castiel stared back at him, then stepped off his fingers and nodded. "All right." 

As he sat down and settled back against Dean's crotch, Dean started up the car and headed out of the rest stop. 

"You are so gross," Sam grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the window. 

"Shut up." Dean reached down with one hand to rest two fingers over Castiel's shoulder, relaxing when he felt both of Castiel's hands lift up to curl around them in return.


	3. Tiny!Cas, M, Dean/Cas/Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> can i req cas in a condom? \o/

Dean gripped the pillow he had tucked under his folded arms and spread his legs wide with a growl. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the anticipation that had him so impatient, but he was done waiting. "Sam, I'm prepped. It's now or never and for your sake it had _better_ be now." 

"Okay, okay," Sam muttered, eyes flicking from his brother's ass to his own cock--or more specifically the small lump on top distorting the smooth line of the condom. "Ready, Cas?" It took a second, but then there was an answering squeeze that sent a shiver through Sam's body. "Yeah, okay. Let's do this." 

He shifted up onto his knees, more than a little tipsy himself, and braced on hand on the bed by Dean's hip while grabbing his cock with the other. Once he was lined up, he took a steadying breath and started to push inside. 

In the condom, Castiel was stretched out on his stomach across Sam's cock. His limbs were wrapped around the heated flesh as far as he could reach--which to be honest wasn't that far. Sam was _huge_. It was like trying to hug a tree; a hot, throbbing tree that was about to be shoved into...he didn't have time to think about it because all of a sudden a heavy weight fell on him from above and pinned him down mercilessly. 

He could feel Sam moving, his hand grinding down harder as he swayed while scooting forward. The pressure was immense and Castiel tried to squirm to signal his distress, but he couldn't even twitch. Finally Sam's hand left but it was only so his cock could continue it's journey into Dean's ass unhindered. He was pushed into darkness and heat and _tightness_. If he'd thought Sam's hand was bad, this was a hundred times more intense, Dean's muscles squeezing reflexively before relaxing to let Sam in farther. 

It felt like an eternity before Sam slowly came to a stop. All around him, Dean was squeezing and relaxing, again and again, and he knew from experience that this was his adjustment period. What had always felt so pleasing on his own cock was a tortuous pounding to his minuscule body. Occasionally Sam's cock would twitch under him and Dean's walls would _grip_ , knocking the breath out of Castiel. 

When Sam began to pull out it was at a dragging pace and Castiel could feel every centimeter of Dean's rectum pushing down and clinging greedily to keep him there. Then it was gone and the dim light of the bedroom shone almost blindingly through the condom. He was only out for a brief moment and then Sam was pushing back in. After that it became consistent: in, squeeze, drag, out, in, squeeze, drag, out. When he was outside Castiel could hear Dean moaning and encouraging Sam to go faster, to thrust harder, before it was swallowed up by the thick walls of flesh as he was pushed into Dean again. 

Sam was eager to comply and his next thrust went fast and deep. The suddenness of it made Castiel lose his grip and he was shoved up the pulsing length. He spread his arms and legs wide and held onto the sides of Sam's cock, not wanting that to happen again. His new position must have given more pleasing results because on the next thrust Dean clamped down even harder than before and Sam's cock throbbed under him in reply. 

Now when Sam pulled back Castiel didn't even make it out of Dean's ass. The younger Winchester had found his rhythm and kept his thrusts fast and deep. Even worse his cockhead had started to let out precome and it wasn't staying at his head. The flesh under Castiel became more and more slick and he couldn't keep his grip. Every thrust moved him, sometimes back a little but more often he was thrown forward. 

Soon he could feel the ridge of its head and Castiel tried to push himself backwards, but any progress he made was ruined by the next sharp thrust. He was sprawled across the side of the head itself now and Sam stuttered in his thrusting, unknowingly tipping Castiel over the edge and head first into the tip of the condom. Upside down with drops the size of buckets splashing onto his face and into his mouth, Castiel kicked his feet and pounded his fists in desperation. Sam was supposed to be paying attention! He'd said there was no way that he wouldn't notice someone hitting his dick, but here was Castiel proving him wrong. 

Every forward thrust slammed the head of Sam's cock against him and covered him in more precome, and every movement back pushed Castiel against the tip of the condom. It was a relentless bouncing back and forth and it took him forever to use the rhythm to his advantage. He eventually managed to turn himself right side up and found himself practically hugging the head. His arms were around it and his legs had slipped underneath and he was face to face with that terrifying slit that was persistently trying to drown him. He had to find a way back up, he knew he didn't have much time before precome would be the least of his worries. 

Outside, Sam was lost in pleasure. Dean was gripping him so sweetly but there was something else along with it, something he should remember. The condom? The condom was different this time. Well, he resolved to make sure they always used this kind as he continued to pound into Dean. 

He had plastered himself all along his brother's back, one hand on the mattress and the other hooked around Dean's waist and jacking him off in time with his thrusts. He was so close and he knew Dean was as well from how he moaned and rocked his hips back to meet Sam halfway, sending lightning sensations up through his body and straight back down into his cock. 

"C'mon, Dean," he pleaded, pressing his lips to Dean's back in sloppy kisses. "I've got you. Come for me, I want to feel it." 

Dean groaned in response and slammed his ass back into the next thrust. Every hit against his prostate made him grip Sam's cock, the feeling winding up more and more. "Yeah, I'm gonna--oh, _oh_ , SAM!" He came hard, clenching down and determinedly pulling Sam's orgasm out as well. 

Castiel was shoved hard against Sam's head the moment Dean came and knew the jittery thrusts Sam was giving meant he was almost there as well. He scrambled to get away, hands sliding on the slick flesh trying to gain even the barest bit of ground. It was that feeling that tipped Sam over the edge, shouting Dean's name as he experienced the best orgasm of his life. Castiel shouted as well as the first shot of semen hit him, coating his face and chest. 

He coughed and tried to push the head away and only got another spurt for his trouble. And Sam hadn't stopped moving, so Castiel was thrown back onto the head while Sam rode his orgasm out, leaving the condom full and Castiel a utter mess. 

Sam collapsed onto Dean's back, completely spent. Below him Dean let out a little grunt but didn't protest and they lay there together as their breathing slowed to normal and their hearts stopped pounding. It was easy to fall into a light doze, warm and heavy-limbed, and Sam's pretty sure he actually fell asleep for a little bit there. A jostling of his oversensitive cock pulled him out of it and he hissed as he gently pulled out of Dean. 

The sudden loss woke Dean as well and he wiggled his hips in an attempt to dislodge his heavy brother, too tired to demand it out loud or push Sam off him himself. Sam knew what he wanted anyway and slid over his side to lie on the mattress. He peeled off his condom and tossed it on the floor, not noticing the tiny angel clinging still to the head of his cock. Free and in fresh air, but stuck fast, Castiel shouted up at the brothers with no result. Sam pushed at Dean's shoulder until he rolled away onto his side and then scooted in close. 

Dean swung a leg over Sam's hips, their cocks sliding together lazily. Castiel ended up trapped between them, Sam's cock on him, Dean's pressing into one side, and nestled firmly in Dean's pubic hair. Above him, Sam and Dean drifted off to sleep again, their stated snores filling the air.


	4. Tiny!Sam, M, Sam/Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a ramble than a fic if it doesn't feel structured well. It does get better toward the end though.

Sam gets shrunk but manages to climb onto his brother's boot, clinging to the laces all the way to the Impala. He's fine until Dean starts to drive because he's on his right foot and Dean is switching from the brake to the gas and back as he navigates them out of the neighborhood of the house they were squatting at (and that Dean thought Sam was still in). Finally Sam loses his hold on the laces and goes tumbling to the floor. Above him Dean shifts in his seat and his left foot comes down to rest on top on Sam, pinning him down and covering him completely. 

He tries to yell for help, screaming Dean's name over and over, but the Impala's engine is too loud and his brother has the radio on and turned up so high the music gives Sam a headache. So he's stuck under the dirty sole of Dean's boot, certain he's going to have the tread pattern imprinted on him before this is over. He's no weakling, but pushing with all his might doesn't budge the boot an inch. To make matters worse, he can hear Dean singing above the music which is a minor torture itself. 

It's an eternity later when the car comes to a stop, the engine cutting off and leaving Sam's head feeling strangely stuffed with only the music still playing. Dean's foot slides off him and he immediately rolls away to avoid the other as it comes crashing down beside him. He expects Dean to leave the car and sits up, ready to move out of the way again. Enough time passes that it's obvious Dean's staying and Sam can't ignore the opportunity. As close as he and his brother's boots have gotten, he's going to have to climb them to get to Dean's leg. 

Of course climbing the boot again is the easy part. Dean's jeans are smooth and difficult to climb, even when he crawls over to the seam for extra grip. It's weird how still Dean is but it's to Sam's advantage so he doesn't complain. There are more handholds at the crease of Dean's knee and he scrambles across them to the bench seat with a triumphant "ha!" that's immediately answered by a rumbling groan that startles him so badly he nearly falls back into the foot well. 

He doesn't have to look far to see what that was all about and Sam's knees wobble a little at the sight. Dean's apparently left and driven who knows where to _jerk one out_ in peace. His enormous hand is wrapped around his even bigger dick and stroking it at an almost _leisurely_ pace. Now that Sam's up here he can hear the rasp of Dean's callouses against it and that is definitely a noise that's going to stay in his head for the rest of his life. It takes a lot of willpower to look past Dean's...hand to see that his brother has reclined the seat and is lying almost completely horizontal. That makes the idea of getting to his ear and yelling for help actually seem possible--the fact that he's in between Dean's legs doesn't. 

The only way to go is up. Sam figures he can go back to Dean's knee and climb from there when there's a keening moan and Dean's legs stretch out and splay wider. All right then, never mind that. Sam gulps and turns back to his brother's crotch and the creases near his inner thigh. He really doesn't want to go over there but he definitely doesn't want to be here when Dean sits up and moves around again. Sam nods to himself and takes purposeful strides toward his brother that appear more confident than he feels. 

He doesn't know what changes, but suddenly Dean's hand leaves his dick and he lifts up his hips. The movement knocks Sam to his knees and that's the only thing that saves him from getting shoved to the floor when Dean pushes his jeans and underwear down to his knees. The course material passes overhead so close that the displaced air ruffles his hair, but he's thankfully unharmed. Dean isn't done yet, he needs to get comfortable again, and Sam yelps as his hips bounce up and down. He's shaking the whole seat and it's making Sam slide _closer_. He rolls onto his stomach and tries to get onto his hands and knees but the tremors are too great and he keeps falling back down. 

Something heavy and hairy lands on his back and a second later Dean finally stops moving, a satisfied sigh reaching Sam's ears the same time as he hears Dean picking up where he left off. His brother's also decided to bring his other hand into the game and Sam sees its shadow before he sees the hand itself. He lifts his head in time to see Dean's hand drop down in front of him, the fingers pressed close together and curled like... _oh no_. 

Dean cups his balls, squeezing them gently before rolling them in his hands. Just touching them is sending pleasing tingles straight to his dick and he rubs his fingers along the sensitive underside where the feeling is strongest. His balls have never been the main even but _damn_ are they stealing the show this time. Curious, he presses down and moves his fingers back to his perineum. He's not ready for the amazing jolt it gives him and he shouts, head pressing back against the seat as he arches his back. 

"Oh fuck yeah," he moans, speeding up the hand on his dick while making sure to keep rubbing that awesome spot behind his balls. 

Sam can't believe his bad luck as he's pushed and dragged by Dean's fingers along sweaty, hairy, _smelly_ flesh. All of his twisting and turning have done nothing but make his brother moan and push down harder, and now his head is under the pads of Dean's fingers taking the brunt of the assault. 

After what feels like an eternity Sam feels Dean's movements start to slow down until they finally and he feels hope rise up in his chest. Has Dean finished? Would have have noticed if he did? He's held almost gently against Dean's perineum for a while before he's moved again and this time his downward motion isn't stopping and dragging him back. He's pushed down in between Dean's cheeks and that makes him start struggling in earnest. _Not there. Please, not there!_ he begs, wanting to scream but knowing Dean won't hear him anyway. 

The hairy skin gives way to a more wrinkled patch of flesh and Sam just closes his eyes and tries to push the knowledge of where he is out of his mind. It's impossible though when Dean's fingers crook and Sam's face and chest are thrown forward and rubbed teasingly against his brother's hole. 

Dean, meanwhile, is applauding himself for his genius and riding towards the best orgasm he's had in months. "Oh, _oh_ , yes!" 

The closer he gets the harsher his fingers get until he's just pushing down and rubbing around his hole in little circles. He's regretting not bringing any lube because getting his fingers inside him would've been _perfect_ right now, but this will be enough. It is enough, and soon he's coming so hard that pushing his shirt up to keep it clean was a waste of time. 

He lets his arms flop out to either side of him and closes his eyes, enjoying the post-orgasm bliss as long as he can. His ass is still tingling a bit and he clenches his cheeks with a pleased hum, completely unaware that Sam was left behind down there. When he finally decides it's time to head back, Dean sits up and goes into the glovebox for the napkins he keeps there to clean up. Some of his come has dried a little, but after that he knew he was going to be getting a shower anyway. And maybe while he's in the shower he'll have round two because he's still feeling pretty damn good. 

Everything is hot and smelly and Sam is _drenched_ in sweat where he's trapped. He needs to get out but Dean is making that impossible with his clenching and his moving. It gets lighter as Dean lifts his hips and Sam watches in horror as he pulls his pants back up. He's left in darkness, stuck between his brother's asscheeks while Dean just starts the Impala and sings loudly to himself as he starts to drive.


End file.
